


valentine's Day Tumblr Prompts

by angelsong87



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9795095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsong87/pseuds/angelsong87
Summary: It's Molly Hooper Apreciation week and its coinciding with Valentine's Day.Here are my responses to the prompts (it was supposed to be one shots, but they kinda link together.)Anyway, I hope you like them.





	1. Actually, That's Doctor Hooper

**Author's Note:**

> This is in response to the first prompt. I Knew I ____ Before I Met You. (focusing on reputations before they met)

Breathe  
  
She said to herself outside the doors to St Barts Hospital. It was her first day as a fully-fledged doctor.  
  
In 24 hours, nothing had changed and yet everything was different. She was no longer an intern, her opinion mattered now.  Patients, their families, and other doctors would expect her to…. what would they expect from her?  
  
Molly Hooper was never very good with people. That’s not to say she was unfeeling. No, quite the contrary. But she always had difficulties expressing that. The other interns called her cold, and strange. She supposed she was strange. That’s what you get from an upbringing like hers.

  
Her parents had always wanted the best for her. In their minds, that translated to success, and they had certainly provided that for her. Molly’s education started at two years of age, when her nanny taught her to read. By age five, she could handle simple maths problems with ease and tell you all the bones in the human body. By seven, she was enrolled in her first boarding school. One of the best schools in the country. That was when she noticed she was different.  
  
Molly had up to that point, had very little interaction with other children. Her time spend predominantly with her Nanny, and on occasion her father. She never felt unloved mind, she just didn’t know how to relate to other children. After a while…. she stopped trying.  
  
She had built up strong walls to keep the bullies out, and was content to live a solitary life, preferring the intellectual conversations with her parents on the weekends to schoolyard play.  
  
Sometimes she questioned herself on her choice to become a doctor. But she was completely fascinated by the field. Her father, a biologist, was proud of her choice, and she enjoyed the lively discussions they had on the various maladies she had studied. His humour matched her own, strange and slightly off putting, they loved to watch her mother roll her eyes at the dinner table as the jokes came out.  
  
The patients of St Barts did not find her funny….  
  
She took one more deep breath and made her way inside. Smiling she headed to the locker room to put on her brand new white coat. There were two other doctors in the room when she arrived, a man and a woman. They were sitting on a bench chatting as she opened the door to her locker. They didn’t seem to notice her arrival in the room, but that wasn’t uncommon for Molly. She listened as the male doctor told his colleague about his last shift.  
  
“I got stuck on morgue duty again. What a nightmare.” He said.  
  
“Oooh yeah, I hate doing the popsicle shift. It’s so boring, when are we going to get a proper pathologist again?” The other replied.  
  
“You know why we can’t keep one don’t you?” Said the man.  
  
Molly turned her head in interest, keening her ears to hear better.  
  
“No, why?” Asked the female doctor.  
  
“Well, cos of him, isn’t it?” He responded. The other doctor looked at him blankly. “Don’t tell me you haven’t had the pleasure of dealing with the freak of St Barts.”  
  
The freak of St Barts, thought Molly furrowing her brow. Who on earth could they be talking about? She had been interning at this hospital for two years now and had never heard of anyone like that. The closest thing to a freak we have here is me! She thought stifling a giggle.  
  
“Are you talking about him? That man who hangs out in the morgue? Haven’t met him thank god.” Said the female doctor.  
  
“Yeah, your lucky. He gives me the Heebie jeebies, that guy. It’s disgusting, the things that he does, and that we let him do.” Replied the man.  
  
Molly’s interest was certainly peaked, who was that man, and what did they let him do in the morgue?  
  
“Isn’t it for scientific studies? I heard he’s saving lives.” Asked the lady doctor.  
 The man scoffed. “Sure, last night I saw him cut into a man’s arm and start pulling on the tendons to make the fingers move. Tell me, how does that save lives?”  
  
“Surely it’s got some kind of medical purpose though.” Said the lady kindly.  
  
“None that I can see. He just creeps me out, always in that suit, like he’s just come from a funeral.”  
  
Finally Molly couldn’t contain her curiosity anymore. She stepped out from the safety of the locker that had partially hidden her from view of the two doctors. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help overhearing you. I was just wondering, who are you talking about?”  
  
The doctors looked up in surprise, they had been unaware of her presence in the room. “Sorry, and you are?” Sneered the man.  
  
“Oh, Molly, I mean, doctor Molly Hooper.” She replied.  
  
“I know you.” Said the female doctor, recognition flitting across her eyes. “You’re that weird intern.”  
  
“Doctor now, as of today, actually.” Molly corrected with a smile.  
  
“Right.” Said the lady absentmindedly before turning back to her friend. “Does he even work here? The freak, I mean.”  
  
“That’s the strangest part, he doesn’t. He just comes in for fun.” Said the male doctor grimacing.  
  
“Sorry, but if he doesn’t work here than why is he allowed in the morgue?” Asked Molly.  
  
“Because he’s a freak.” Said the woman rolling her eyes. “I heard he pulled some strings with the board of directors and that’s why he is allowed down there.”  
  
“I heard he threatened them.” Said the man.  
  
“Well, that doesn’t sound likely.” Said Molly. “Him threatening the board that is, I mean, wouldn’t they just call the police?”  
  
Both doctors stared at Molly, they seemed somewhat irritated by her intrusion into the conversation. The man looked at his watch. “Shit, I’ve gone rounds in ten, talk to you later.” He said to his companion before standing up and striding for the door.  
  
The woman stood up and appraised Molly. “You’d probably get on well with the freak. You should put your hand up for the pathology position. At least those patients won’t know how weird you are.” And with that said, she left.  
  
Molly sat down on the now empty bench, tears stinging her eyes. It had been a long time since anyone had called her weird to her face. She thought about the pathology position. Maybe she should apply for it, after all. The woman was right, no one would complain about her down there. Maybe she would get on with the man they had called a freak, maybe he was just misunderstood like her.  
  
She stood up and headed for the door, she would have time to put in an application before her shift started. It wouldn’t hurt to apply. anyway, she probably wouldn’t get it, they don’t give positions like chief pathologist to someone fresh out of medical school. Even if she was top of her class.  
  
But it would solve her problems, if she did get the job. No more working with other doctors, no more worrying about what the patients thought of her. She probably would get on quite well in the job, at least you can’t hurt the dead…. after all what could she do? Kill them again? She smiled at her own joke.  
  
As for the freak of St Barts, well, Molly would reserve judgement until she met him, although she couldn’t help thinking she was going to like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to express how in my mind, Molly Hooper is just as smart, and just as strange as her counter part.  
> Also.... why can't Molly come from a rich family? I mean.... We all saw her London Flat..... know what I'm sayin.... (Bitch got coin)  
> Anyway.... this is my head cannon.
> 
> I hope you like it. Please leave comments! Feedback is my life blood!


	2. An Amicable Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt Day 2   
> ____ At First Sight (focusing on first meetings)

She had been working at the morgue for a week when she first met the freak of St Barts…

Molly couldn’t have been more surprised, or more pleased when she was offered the role of chief pathologist at St Barts hospital. At 27 years, old it was unprecedented for someone so young and new to her doctorate to be given such a huge position of power. 

Following her meeting with the board of directors she managed to walk calmly back to the locker room and check that it was empty, before letting out a whoop of joy and doing a bouncing sort of happy dance. With that done she grabbed her phone out of her locker and called her parents to give them the good news. 

While her parents expressed some concern with the morbid nature of their daughter’s new work, they were excessively pleased with her new position of success. Molly could not keep the grin off her face when they told her how proud they were.

 now she could afford her expensive city apartment on her own. It was nice to know that she was finally independent. 

 There was a lot of paperwork to do, as well as learning a whole new set of policies and procedures before she could start her role. Especially considering the sorry mess the previous chief had left in the wake of his departure. But Molly took it in her stride, spending the next week going through it all. 

 The hospital promised her that she would have an office. But apparently, the last chief had caused some damage that needed to be repaired before it was usable again. So instead, she worked from home. 

 She had gotten through a very large stack of paperwork already when she came across a file labelled Mr Holmes. At first, she thought it was a patients file that had gotten mixed in with all the other paperwork but no, this one looked different. It was just a name printed on a plain manila folder, the contents of which looked quite thick. She decided to refill her tea before looking at it.

 Molly had been adding lemon to her tea for about a month now, her father had told her that it helps lower cholesterol and he was concerned about her well being. At first it was hard for her to drink, she usually took her tea quite sweet. But she had started to get used to it now, it probably helped her stay well.

 She took her cup and saucer over to her small cluttered desk and picked up the file, flipping it open to the first page.

**_This file pertains to the contractual agreements between the Saint Bartholomew Private Hospital and one Mister Sherlock Holmes. All policies and guidelines are to be adhered to strictly and without deviance._ **

Molly raised her eyebrows and thumbed through the many pages. This Sherlock Holmes character must be the freak of St Barts, she thought. 

 The file was incredibly detailed, listing every perceivable scenario that could play out in the morgue and what Mr Holmes was allowed and not allowed to do. On the final page of the contract was the small tight signature of the hospital’s chief of staff. Next to it was Mr Holmes’s. it was large, cutting into the text above and filled with tiny flourishes. Molly studied it for more time than she would care to admit. She was excited and more than a little curious to meet the strange man who frequented her morgue…. her morgue, she like that.

 The following week she had moved her work from home to a small desk at the back of the morgue, her office still not ready yet. That was where she met him.

 He strolled into the room like he’d been there a thousand times before, in fact he looked more at home here than Molly was. She looked up from her work with a jump and caught her first sight of him.

 He was tall, and yes in his suit she could understand how someone might think he had just come from a funeral. Molly new better, the suit was tailor made to fit him, and fit him well. He was well build, a little on the thin side, but he had broad shoulders that carried the weight of authority. 

 His hair, unlike the rest of him was not tailored or pressed, in fact if you only looked at the head he looked like he just rolled out of bed. It hung around his face in dark curls, almost hiding his eyes from view. He was too far away to tell what color his eyes were yet. But you could hardly miss the cheekbones, his face reminded Molly of a statue that you would see in a museum. His features were strong and symmetrical…… and beautiful, said a little voice in the back of her head.

 He stood there in the doorway his eyes scanning the room. They connected with her for maybe half a second before they fell on what he was looking for. The fridges on the far wall, specifically the one with the new label on it. He walked purposefully over to it and opened the door, rolling out the recently deceased Mrs Haberman out on the shelf.

 Molly quickly stood up and stepped towards him. “Hello.” She said softly. “You must be Mr Holmes.”

 He stopped and rolled his eyes in her direction. “Are you going to continue attempting small talk or can I get back to work now?” He replied briskly.

 Molly flinched at the tone. “Excuse me?”

 Sherlock sighed and pushed Mrs Haberman back into the fridge. “Yes, I am Sherlock Holmes, commonly known as the freak of St Barts, you are the latest doctor to be put on morgue duty and I am honestly sick of having this conversation every time I come in here.” He said in exasperation.

 "I’m not on morgue duty I’m the new chief pathologist.“ Replied Molly matching his short-tempered tone.

 Sherlock blinked in surprise and turned to look at her. He took in the rumpled navy skirt and the shockingly colorful blouse she was wearing, the ink stains on her right hand. "Really?” He asked. He was genuinely surprised, the woman in front of him couldn’t be more than 28 and the way she held herself did not express confidence.

 She shook her head slightly and squared her shoulders. “Yes really, so I believe we should have a conversation about our expectations of your work here.” She said, her voice betraying the false confidence she had been trying to instill.

 He smirked. “Alright then, shall we sit down?” He asked gesturing towards Molly’s makeshift work space.

 She could tell he was trying to throw her off, make her feel uncomfortable so that he could control the conversation, but she wasn’t having any of that. This was her first real test of authority and she would not bow. She sat down at her desk, Sherlock sat next to her, she could see his eyes now. They were a crystalline blue that seemed to see straight through her.

 "Well now, what would you like to discuss?“ He asked, leaning back in his chair, he looked as comfortable as someone sitting on their lounge at home.

"Well I read the file left by the last chief-”

“Insufferable Pratt.” Sherlock interjected.

Molly sighed and continued. “I would like to know what your expectations of this arrangement are.”

“I expect to have the freedom to come and go as I like, I work odd hours you see and I may have cause to come in at very late hours. I expect free reign over all cadavers donated to science and those who cannot be identified in the allotted time. I on occasion consult with the police and need the use of the facilities to examine bodies pertaining to cases. I expect all bodies to be clearly labelled at all times to avoid any mishaps. And most of all I expect to be left alone.”

Molly felt a shiver go up her arms, his voice was deep and melodic, an image of him reading to her in bed flashed through her mind. She shook her head to clear it. “Any cases that come in from the police must go through correct channels before you are allowed to examine them and then, only after a proper autopsy has been done.”

“Acceptable.” He replied.

“You must never handle any cadaver that isn’t properly labeled, You are also not to take anything from this lab without consent, and there must always be someone present when you are here.” She finished.

“No, that won’t do, I can’t work with stupid people in the room, it’s too distracting.” He said shaking his head.

“I’m sorry Mr Holmes, but that is in the contract you signed.” 

He sighed in exasperation, and took another look at the young pathologist. She must be smart, to have been awarded such a good position at the hospital, and she was clever, clever enough to make him stop and talk to her. There was something else too, something he couldn’t put his finger on yet, it was clear she would be susceptible to manipulation. She was already showing obvious signs of attraction, he could use that. She was a little mouse with a lions courage, he liked her. “Fine, but only you. I cannot suffer fools.”

Molly flashed a quick smile, she didn’t know why she cared, but it made her happy that he thought she was smart. “That is acceptable.” She agreed. He handed her his phone. She took it and gave him a curious look. “What’s this for?”

“As I just explained to you, I work odd hours. Since it has just been agreed that I am not to work unsupervised, and I will only work with you, I need your number so that I can call you after hours.” He explained.

“Oh.” She replied and typed in her number.

“Lovely.” Said Sherlock taking the phone back. His fingers brushed against hers which were two degrees colder than his, probably due to prolonged exposure to the air conditioning. “Now, Mrs Haberman, may I examine her? I’m studying the coagulation of blood after thawing from refrigeration.”

 She gestured at the fridge and he strode over to it. Molly went back to the paperwork on her desk trying desperately to ignore the good looking man who had just gotten under her skin.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cant get over the idea that Sherlock keeps scaring off the Morgue attendants and staff, it just seems so him. But Molly has never been scared of him.  
> Also totally accept that they would keep a thick file on him outlining exactly what he could and couldn't do. (I'm sure Mycroft had a lot to do with Sherlock's access to St Barts in the first place...... got to keep that mind active.)
> 
> Anyway, As always... Please comment, let me know if you like what I'm doing... am I getting the characterizations right?  
> I crave your feedback!


	3. Valentine Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr Prompt Day 3  
> Valentine's Day (Kinda self explanitory)  
> This takes place after HLV but before TST.  
> Molly has an unexspected visiter whilst babysitting,

14/2/2015 

Molly put the file she had been reading down on the desk and pinched the bridge of her nose, it had been a long day of hiding in her office trying to avoid the festivities of the day. She didn’t begrudge anyone’s happiness, but her breakup with Tom six months prior had planted her squarely in the realms of spinsterhood. She couldn’t really enjoy the day feeling like an old maid. Not that at 34 she was old, but her biological clock just kept on ticking and with no real prospect on the horizon…. well nothing that would ever happen, she felt somewhat melancholy.

Life wasn’t lonely for Molly necessarily, not at all. John and Mary had just had little baby Rosie, and they were always keen for a visit. Her mother had been phoning her more often lately and she was enjoying the renewed relationship there…. _Sherlock is back…._ said a little voice in the back of her head. She ignored it.

Sherlock didn’t matter to her like that anymore, there was no point dreaming about something that would never eventuate. Besides, she barely even saw him since he had been absolved of the Magnussen thing. He just jumped right back into solving cases. in fact, he was quite overzealous about it, working on three or more at any given moment in time. She was still speaking to him daily…. via text, he would send her samples to analyze, data to collate. Like she didn’t have enough to do already, she thought rolling her eyes. He still knew how to push her buttons, how to get her to prioritize his work over her own…. _you still let him_ , reminded the little voice.

She glanced up at the clock to distract her thoughts, crap! it was half five already. She promised John and Mary that she would babysit tonight so they could have a valentine’s date. She jumped up from her desk grabbing her purse and headed for the door. She quickly calculated how long it would take her to get to their place. She was only about ten minutes behind, if she got a good cabbie she could make that up on the way.

******

“Bye! Have a good time!” She called to John and Mary as they got into the car. She turned back into the house and looked down at the precious little angel she held in her arms. She was so sweet, her little lips pursed together in her sleep. 

Molly had just put her down in the cot when she heard a knocking on the door. She grabbed the baby monitor and went to see who it was.

Looking through the spy hole she saw a familiar mop of dark curly hair. She sighed and opened the door. “Hi Sherlock.”

“John, don’t ignore my texts.” Replied Sherlock walking inside straight past her to the kitchen. 

She shut the door behind him and started a mental countdown…. three… two…

His head popped out from around the corner. “Molly? Where’s John?”

“They went out.” She replied walking into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

“Really…. why?” He asked blinking rapidly.

“Because they can? Because it’s Valentine’s Day and they love each other.”  She explained grabbing out the mugs and tea.

“Is it?” He pondered. “Oh well, you’ll have to do. I have a case I would like an opinion on.”

Molly let out a small sarcastic laugh. “Thanks Sherlock but I’d rather not, I’m not a John substitute.”

If she had blinked she would have missed the look of shock that crossed his face, it was gone so quickly. “No of course not, I value your opinion.” He argued.

She raised her eyebrow, Sherlock didn’t value anyone’s opinion other than his own. “Right, well then, we can have a catch up first, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” 

“We saw each other two weeks ago…. right here if I’m not mistaken when John and Mary brought the baby home.” He argued.

“Yes, and you were on your phone the whole time… you can’t keep burning the candle at both ends, the case will wait ten minutes.” She retorted.

Two minutes later they were sat awkwardly in John’s dining room, nursing a cup of hot tea each. “So…. you’re doing well then? Still not back with what’s his name then.”  Asked Sherlock, avoiding all eye contact.

“No, still not back with Tom. That’s over now thank you.” She replied rolling her eyes. What was she thinking trying to make small talk with Sherlock… out of all things he was bad at, this had to be the worst.

“Right, well then…. sorry?” He asked.

“It’s fine, thanks.”Sher replied awkwardly. “How are you? You always seem to be on a case these days.” 

“Fine, I’m fine, thank you…. just, you know, keeping busy.” He said. 

She nodded. “Moriarty.”

“Moriarty is dead.” He said sharply.

An awkward silence filled the space between them. “alright fine, tell me about this case.” She said trying to release the tension.

His eyes lit up. “Well, I have two brothers who are both suspected of committing a murder. Both have motive, both were at the scene of the crime, but only one of them pulled the trigger.”

“Alright, which one?” She asked.

“That’s the tricky bit, there was no definitive proof on either brother and both are saying the other one did it. I have a theory but I want a second opinion on the medical data to be sure.” He replied.

“Alright what have you got?”

Sherlock reached into his coat to pull out a file, she quickly scanned through it, it was the medical history on both brothers. “What type of gun was it?” She asked.

“A large caliber hand gun.” He replied.

She pointed at the name of one of the brothers. “This one did it.” 

“And how did you come to that conclusion?” Asked Sherlock, catching her eyes and holding his stare.

“The other brother was in a boating accident years back and he tore a ligament in his hand, he would have never been able to apply enough pressure to squeeze the trigger with that hand.”

“What about the other hand?” He queried.

She shook her head. “No, if he had shot the victim with the other hand he would have ligature damage from the kick back. It must be this one, look at the hairline fractures on the metacarpal and trapezium.” She explained, pointing at the X-ray. It gave her a chance to break the eye contact, she wished he wouldn't  look at her like that. It made her feel like she was a slide under a microscope.

“Very good Molly, that is what I thought too.” He replied, pulling out his phone. “I’ll let Lestrade know.”

“Sherlock.” Said Molly in a quiet voice.

“Yes.” He replied not looking up from his phone.

“You didn’t need a second opinion on that, it was obvious who the killer was.”

Sherlock looked up. “I do occasionally miss things you know.” He said with a smirk. 

She didn’t know why he bothered, she could always tell when he was lying. “Why did you come here?” She asked. “You were there when John asked me to babysit tonight, it was two weeks ago, when we were all here.”

“Really, I mustn’t have been listening. Were people nattering? I always tune out the nattering, it’s distracting.” He replied going back to his phone.

“Are you here to keep me company? Did John ask you to? Or Mary?” She asked, color pinking her cheeks. It had been six months! She was fine, she didn’t need a babysitter.

“What? no, Molly, I didn’t even know you were here, I just had some free time is all.” He replied.

Molly was unconvinced. She was just about to question him further when the baby monitor sprung to life and little Baby Watson began to cry. She gave Sherlock a look as she got up from the table and headed into the nursery to soothe the child. “Shh it’s alright little one.” She said as she picked her up and started patting her gently on the back, she must have some wind Molly thought, remembering her little puckered lips. 

She was bouncing her gently as she swayed back and forth, it didn’t take long for Baby Watson to release the offending wind and fall back to sleep. Quietly she placed her back in the cot. As she turned around she saw Sherlock standing in the darkened doorway. “Fancy some chips?” He whispered.

She shooed him out of the room and followed him down the hall. “What?” She asked when they were safely away from the baby.

“Chips? Are you hungry? We could grab something else if you like.” He replied.

“So, you’re staying then?” She asked putting her hands on her hips.

“Lestrade got my text. I am currently in between cases now.” He replied nonchalantly.

Molly sighed in defeat. “Chips sounds fine.” 

“Excellent.” Said Sherlock heading for the door. “There’s a chippy van two blocks up that is arguably the third best in London, I’ll head down and grab them.”

He strode out the door without waiting for a reply, leaving Molly standing in the hall wondering what on earth had gotten into him.

****

When Sherlock was far enough away that he wouldn’t be seen if Molly happened to venture out the door he stopped, closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

So much had happened in the last six months, John and Mary getting married, the terrifying arrival of their offspring…. if he never saw childbirth again he would be happy. Then Magnussen, and the drugs… he was in control the whole time, but the look of disappointment on Molly’s face when he tested positive still haunts him.

He lifted a hand to his cheek to trace the long-gone handprint she had left on his face. She had been so angry with him, for so much more than the drugs. She had seen him high before, she didn’t like it, but the slap…. sorry… multiple slaps had been about so much more than that. It was his fault that she wasn’t happy… couldn’t be happy. If he could just let her go…

He had tried…

_“No, you didn’t.” Said Mycroft, from the depths of his mind palace. “What did you hope to accomplish taking her out on cases with you?”  
_

_“Nothing, I just wanted to say thank you.” Sherlock replied._

_Mycroft smirked. “You wanted to remind her how much fun you are. You wanted to flirt, brother mine.”_

_Sherlock whirled around to stare at his brother. “I don’t flirt.” He spat._

_“You do, you flirt with Ms Hooper. You always have.” The older Holmes brother replied._

_Sherlock thought back to all the times he had shown Molly attention. “That was always for a case.” He retorted._

_“Exactly.” Said Mycroft. “Manipulation dear, always, now tell me… why did you take her out on cases?”_

_“BECAUSE I WANTED TOM GONE!” He shouted. “He was an idiot, she deserves better than that.“  
_

_“And now? Brother mine, what do you want from her now?”  
_

_“Nothing! Her time… her company.” Said Sherlock in defeat._

_“As I thought, and why today of all days? Could you feel something special for the little mouse?” Ask Mycroft coldly._

_In a flash, Sherlock had his brother pinned against the fence. “Don’t call her that! Molly Hooper is the bravest, smartest, most caring, person I have ever had the opportunity to meet!”_

_Mycroft smiled. “There now, if you can’t admit your feelings here, to me, how will you ever admit them to yourself.”_

_Sherlock released his brother. “It doesn’t matter what I feel, or what I am capable of feeling. She doesn’t care for me that way…. it’s infatuation… not love.”  
_

_“We shall see brother dearest, we shall see.”_

Sherlock opened his eyes and took in the street, he was more shaken up by the encounter in his mind palace than he would care to admit. He was fortunate to have time to relax his nerves before he made his way back to her.

He should just keep walking, head back to Baker Street. Go back to avoiding Molly Hooper. But there was a loose thread in his mind, and today…. he was going to pull it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always liked the idea of Sherlock using his Mind Palace as a way of proccessing things. It's his way of seperating himself from the real world problems, if he looks through the lense of a world inside his mind... he has total control of what will happen. Or at least, he thinks he does....  
> I can totally imagine him experimenting with Molly and his feelings.
> 
> Anyway, Let me know what you think!  
> Your feedback sustains me.


	4. Mind Palace Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 Tumblr Prompt  
> Feels Like______ (Focusing on feelings)  
> Sherlock struggles to put himself back together after meeting his long lost sister.

Sherlock lay on the uncomfortable sofa in John’s sitting room. John had long since gone to bed, after what they had gone through Sherlock wasn’t surprised. He should be exhausted…. his body definitely needed a rest, but his mind…. oh… that just wouldn’t shut off.

It was all too much, everything. Euros’s vivisection, everything he was, his tightly wound facade of pure logic, undone in an afternoon. Today he learned truths long buried, today he woke up, and life was forever changed.

God, he wanted a hit right now. To escape the rapid fire of his mind. To disappear in oblivion. But he couldn’t disappoint them again, not ever. 

“ _Emotional context Sherlock, it destroys you every time."_

The echoes of his sister’s words haunted him. How many lives had he destroyed? He closed his eyes and slipped into the comfort of his mind palace.

_"Go to hell Sherlock.” Said Mary walking towards him. He looked around…. Baker Street, as it was, before the grenade destroyed his home._

_“Mary, I -”_

_“You absolute idiot.” She said shaking her head at him. “John nearly died today, and Mycroft, and you… what are you doing? Moping.”_

_His face contorted in confusion. “Sorry, what?“_

_She smiled at him pity in her eyes. "You really don’t see it, do you?”  
_

_Sherlock jutted out his jaw in defiance. “I really don’t like riddles Mrs Watson, what is your point.”_

_She reached out and took his hand. “Oh Sherlock.” She said giving his had a squeeze. “They love you, we all do… and you love us.”  
_

_He dropped her hand like it burned and turned away._

_“Admit it.” She said still smiling._

_“I don’t understand.” He replied._

_“Yes, you do.”  She said reaching out to grab his hand again. “You love us all, me, John, Mrs Hudson, Greg Lestrade. Even Anderson.” She added with a laugh._

_He whipped around to face her. “Anderson?” He asked raising an eyebrow._

_She shrugged. “He grew on you.” She replied nonplussed._

_Sherlock sighed. “While I admit to missing your company Mary, I am incapable of the emotions you are expressing.”_

_Mary nodded her tongue pressed against her top lip. “Yeah… right…. you do realize that your lying to yourself, right? That none of this,” she gestured around the room. “Is real?”_

_“Of course,” He replied._

_“Poor little Sherlock, trying to pick up the pieces of his shattered little world.” Moriarty said from the corner of the room._

_“Shut up!” Shot Sherlock._

_“Naw don’t worry sherlly boy.” Said Moriarty walking over to place his hands on Mary’s shoulders. “Mary’s with me now, just like all your little friends are going to be.”_

_“SHUT UP!” Said Sherlock bringing the gun in his hand up to rest on the other man’s forehead._

_Moriarty giggled. “Ooh.” He said, holding his hands up. “What are you going to do? Shoot me?” He grabbed the gun out of Sherlock’s hands and pointed it at him. “It doesn’t matter, stupid man, I’m in your head. Really you’re just pointing this at yourself.”_

_Sherlock pinched his eyes closed and let out a scream, his world seemed to spin around him._

_“I’m sorry brother.” Said Mycroft._

_Sherlock opened his eyes, he was in Mycroft’s lavish sitting room. “Why what did you do?”_

_“All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage Sherlock.” Said Mycroft robotically._

_Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I am aware brother mine.”_

_A tear spilled from the older Holmes brother’s eye. “What I did to you was wrong, I know that now, I am sorry brother.”_

_Sherlock’s eyes widened. “No, Mycroft! I don’t want to hear this.” He covered his ears and put his chin to his chest._

_Mycroft took two large steps towards his brother and reached out to cup his face. “Everything I did was to save you. Save you from the hurt, from the pain.”_

_Sherlock considered his brother’s eyes, his own eyes brimming with thirty years of un-shed tears. “Please, I can’t.” His voice cracked with emotion._

_Mycroft drew him into an embrace. “You cried for weeks, when Victor went missing. I just wanted to help you, you weren’t healing brother. So, I told you a story, a story of another little boy, who didn’t feel pain. Who knew that caring was a disease. You became that boy Sherlock, and it is my fault.”_

_Sherlock shook himself out of his brother’s arms. “But you were right!” He shouted. “Caring doesn’t help, all it does is ruin things.”_

_Mycroft smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “All those crime scenes, all those pointless deaths. Did not caring stop any of those?” He asked._

_“No, but it didn’t hurt me.” Shot Sherlock. The tears were streaming down his face now._

_“Look at him.” Said Mycroft softly, holding his arm out to the darkened corner where Moriarty sat chained to the wall in a strait jacket. “Did not caring help him in the end?” He pointed to the other corner. “Or her?”  
_

_Encased in a small glass box was seven year old Euros. Her cold blank stare sending shivers through the brothers._

_Sherlock closed his eyes and sighed, bringing his hands up to cover his face._

_“Don’t let anybody tell you that caring doesn’t hurt.” Said John as he cradled baby Rosie.  
_

_Sherlock opened his eyes, he was back at Baker Street. “John.” The name came out like a hitched cry._

_“Yes, alright. It hurts, and I know your hurting right now. But it’s not always like this, the pain will never leave you. But the rest?” John looked down at the sleeping infant. “Love will blow your mind more than anything you poke into your arm.” He looked up capturing Sherlock’s eyes with his own. “You know that.” He laughed. “You know, I genuinely thought it was The Woman… all this time and it never crossed my mind.”_

_Sherlock smiled weakly. “Of course, it didn’t, you’re an idiot.”_

_“How long have you been in love with Molly Hooper?” Asked John._

_“Consciously? I don’t know, a day maybe.” He replied._

_“Right…. and unconsciously?” Pressed John._

_Sherlock turned to stare at the woman he loved. She had that ridiculously bright jumper on, which jarringly clashed with the cherry covered blouse peeking out the top. “I don’t know, how do I tell?”_

_John laughed. “I’m sure you will spend the rest of your life trying to figure that out mate.”_

  _Sherlock turned away. “But I hurt her, for years I hurt her.”_

_“How did you hurt me? I’m a big girl Sherlock, I take care of myself.” Said Molly._

_“I used you, I abused our connection.” He confessed._

_“After all this time, do you really think I would have let you use me, hurt me for nothing?” She asked her face twisting in surprise. “How did you abuse our connection? By asking favors? By asking for help?” She smiled shaking her head. “That’s what people do for the ones they love.”_

_"Told you, you’re an idiot.” Said Mary and she stood next to John beaming at her child._

_“Sherlock, today you told me your darkest secret, and I told you mine.” Molly grasped his shoulders and started to shake him. “Now wake up and do something about it! Wake up Sherlock, wake up!”_

“Wake up!”

 

He opened his eyes to see her face inches from his own, sunlight glistening across her cheek. “Molly?”

“Are you high Sherlock? What the hell was that phone call about? You bastard.”

He blinked trying to clear the sleep from his eyes as she pushed back from the sofa to glare down at him.

“Good morning Molly, sorry I must have dozed off, what are you doing here?” He asked sitting up.

“What am I- Sherlock I was worried about you! A bomb goes off in your flat and then you and John just disappear for a whole day! I have no idea where Rosie is and then that phone call happens! And then you’re just gone!” She shouts.

“Actually, it was a grenade.” He replied scratching the morning shadow of his beard.

“You are high.” She said looking at him in disgust. “Unbelievable, you know what Sherlock? I’m done! You have no regard for anyone but yourself.” She turned to walk away but before she had taken a step he grabbed her arm. Molly turned to look back at him and he stood up.

“I am not high Molly, and I wasn’t yesterday.” She scoffed. “I am not high, and I meant what I said.” He said softly.

She shook her head in disbelief and looked up at him eyes shining with tears.

“I am sorry Molly, truly I am, for any pain I have ever caused you. But I am not sorry for telling you my secret.”

Her voice cracked as she spoke. “Sherlock.” 

He reached down and brushed a tear away with his thumb, the rest of his hand coming to rest on her cheek. “If you’ll let me- if you’ll have me, I would like to spend the rest of my days trying to make it up to you.”

She let out a half laugh half sob. “You’re an ass Sherlock Holmes.” She said a smile washing over her face.

“I know.” He replied and leaned down to kiss her.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this to flow naturally from his Mind Palace, to his dreams. I wanted it to be chaotic, to twist and turn seemingly at random. I wanted Sherlock to be unable to seperate emotion from fact. and I wanted him to do it all completely sober.  
> I hope his trip makes sense and you can follow it.
> 
> Also side note..... it would make total sense to me that Molly would assume he is high whe he called her... look at his track record, and look at how he handles change 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!!!!!! I live for your comments


	5. Nothing Greater than the love of a Good Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr Prompt Day 5   
> Nothing Greater Than ____ (focusing on something/someone Molly Loves)
> 
> so I kinda focused on someone that loves Molly but i think it still fits the brief lol

“So, you kissed her?” said John his face wide with shock.

“Yes.” Replied Sherlock, cocking his head in his friends’ direction.

“You. Sherlock Holmes, kissed someone…. And it wasn’t a game” John sat down on the sofa his head spinning.

“Yes.” Replied Sherlock, his brow creasing in frustration. “I don’t understand how you could think it was a game. I was perfectly honest in my regard for Molly, I thought you knew that.”

“Well, yes, of course I knew that. But still! Sherlock Bloody Holmes snogged Molly Hooper.” Said John, grinning like the cat who got the cream.

Sherlock returned his grin. “Yes, I did.”

“So, what happens now?” he asked.

Holmes ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the wiry curls from his face. “I have absolutely no idea.” He confessed.

John let out a laugh. “The great Sherlock Holmes! The man who knows everything, doesn’t know what to do.”

“You know perfectly well that I don’t know everything, and so do all the stupid readers of your little blog for that matter.” He replied scowling. “I have never professed to knowing everything, certain information by necessity has needed to be deleted. Arbitrary facts that have no bearing on anything, celebrities-“

“The fact that the earth revolves around the sun.” John interjected.

“Exactly!” Replied Sherlock. “Entirely useless information.”

“Well, you faked a relationship with Janine for a whole month, you wouldn’t have been able to do that if you were completely clueless.” Said John.

Sherlock waved his hand in frustration. “That doesn’t count, that was only ever a means to an end.”

John raised an eyebrow in comment to his friends’ insensitivity. “Ignoring the fact that you are a total prick, isn’t it basically the same thing? I mean, you fooled me.”

The consulting detective threw himself down on the sofa next to his friend. “That was all about Janine, I deduced exactly what was necessary to retain her affections and responded appropriately. My wants and needs never factored in to it.”

The shorter man nodded. “So basically, you catfished her.”

“What?” asked Sherlock, it irritated him to no end when his friends used nonsense words. “Look it doesn’t matter what happened with Janine, that was never intended to last. This is real and I…” He trailed off.

“You want it to last.” John finished.

Sherlock gave him a weak smile. “Ridiculous, isn’t it? But if my past is any indication that might prove difficult.”

John cast his mind back on the five difficult years of friendship he had shared with the detective of Baker Street. Sure, there had been good times. But there had also been severed heads in a fridge that never held anything remotely edible. Days where he had to call in sick to work because he’d been up all night on a case. The constant experiments that Sherlock would do to him, like that time he lost a whole Wednesday after his friend had made him tea…

“Yeah, I see your point.” Replied John.

Sherlock lowered his head into his hands and mumbled. “I will inevitably ruin this, won’t I?”

“No.” said John sternly, clapping the man’s back. “You’ve got me to help remind you when you forget that other people are in fact, people.”

“So then Doctor Watson, what do you recommend?”

“Well, what happened after you kissed her?” He asked.

“She left.” He replied.

John screwed up his face in confusion. “Did she say anything?”

“She just sort of blinked at me smiling for a while, and then she said goodbye and left.” he replied

"Good, that’s good.” Said John. Suddenly a scary thought crossed his mind.

“What?” Asked Sherlock, he watched as John’s face slackened. “Did I do something wrong?”

“God, Sherlock.” The man winced. “I really don’t want to have this conversation.”

“What conversation? Why? What did I do?” He felt a knot tighten in his stomach… could he have ruined it already?

“You haven’t done anything yet, but it’s something that you will be expected to do… at some point.” John couldn’t think of a time he was more uncomfortable.

Sherlock let his gaze wander as he tried to ascertain what he would need to do with Molly at some point. Get engaged? He didn’t care about such things but he assumed that she would want to eventually… that wouldn’t be so bad, it wouldn’t change anything really, isn’t that what John had always said about his marriage? His attention snapped back to the present as he heard his friend sigh.

“Okay.” Said John red-faced. He chewed on his words for a time, trying to find the right way to say something important, and uncomfortable. “Sherlo- um mate, have you ever…. been with anyone before?” Asked John, as he stared at a spot on the wall somewhere near Sherlock’s left earlobe. “Janine? The Woman maybe?”

Realization dawned on Sherlock. “You’re referring to sex?”

John held out his hands in front of himself in surrender. “Look, I know you probably don’t want to talk about this, and I definitely don’t want to talk about it, but you do realize that it’s a part of every fulfilling relationship right?”

_“And we’re having quite a lot of sex!”_

Molly’s voice rang through his head like a bullet. “Right.” He said blankly.

“Have you ever… actually had sex Sherlock?”

“There have been occasions… yes.” Replied Sherlock cautiously. John raised his eyebrow. “okay, once, at university…Mycroft would stop calling me a virgin." 

"And it was with a woman?” John pressed. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes at him. “Yes.”

“Sorry, but with you, I had to ask.” He replied apologetically.

The taller man sighed. “John you know I have always accepted your covert homosexual tendencies, however, I do not share-”

“For the LAST TIME! I am not gay!” John shouted before remembering the infant sleeping one room away. “I am not gay, I have never been gay. I was married for Christs sake.” He whispered.

Sherlock smirked. “Had you going though." 

"Oh you asshole.” Said John shaking his head.

“Funny, that’s what Molly said before I kissed her.” Said Sherlock.

“I can’t imagine why.” He replied crossly.

“I’m sorry.” Said Sherlock still grinning.

“Yeah well, you can’t help being a cock. And just so you know, girls don’t really like the stuff in porn, so don’t use them as instructional videos." 

"Really?” Said Sherlock. “I should apologize to the girl from uni then.”

“Oh god.” Exclaimed John bringing his palm to his head.

“Relax John, I will cross that bridge with Molly when we get to it, I’m sure she knows what she likes. After all, she is more experienced than I am.”

“The Pope is more experienced than you.” He exclaimed

Sherlock continued. “And we are both frank enough to express any desires we each have. I once recall Molly telling me-" 

"No! No, no. I am done with this conversation now, I don’t want to think about that… ever!” John proclaimed, waving his hands as if he could physically deflect Sherlock’s words. 

“As much as I have enjoyed the awkward conversation about my sex life, I fail to see how this is helpful.” Said Sherlock.

“Okay, listen. Molly knows who you are, what your like, so you don’t need to change for her.” John started.

“I know.” Replied Sherlock, a slight smile playing over his lips.

“If only give you one piece of advice, it’s this.” He took a deep breath. “Don’t lie to her… I mean it Sherlock, don’t ever lie to her, don’t deceive her, and don’t ignore her. You’re not sheltering her when you do, you’re not saving her. I mean hell, you’ve loved her for god knows how long now and lied to her about it, look how that turned out. Just be honest with her, don’t retreat into your head when times get tough, open your mouth and share it with her. The lies nearly tore Mary and I apart and I don’t want that for you, and I don’t want that for her.”

Sherlock stared solemnly at his friend. “Thank you, John. I honestly don’t think I could do this without you.”

“Yeah alright, piss off, would you? Go and be with your girlfriend.” Said John with a smile.

“Oh girlfriend…. no that won’t do, that’s far too trivial to describe Molly don’t you think?” Replied Sherlock staring off into space again.

“If you start writing poetry, in checking your arms for needles.” Warned John.

Sherlock smiled and clapped his friend on the back. “Who needs drugs when you have the real thing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha, sherlock making fun of John being sensitive about his sexuality...... I love these two together
> 
> As Always, please comment.  
> your feedback keeps the storyteller in me strong


	6. An Ending is just the Beginning of Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt Day 6  
> ____ Forever (focusing on relationships)

Molly Hooper closed her front door and let herself rest against the cool wood. The past 24 hours had been such an intense roller coaster of highs and lows she felt completely overwhelmed. All the anxiety and stress had been too much and she just wanted a nice cup of tea and a rest.

 

Sighing she stepped away from the door and removed her coat, hanging on her peg. The peg next to it, it had been decided at some point, was Sherlock's. whenever he arrived at Molly's home he would hang his coat and scarf there, next to hers. She used to daydream about him coming home of an evening and hanging his outerwear there before coming into the kitchen to kiss her hello as she poured tea for them both. But that was only a silly little daydream of a future that would never happen.

 

She brought her fingers up to her lips, tracing the spot where Sherlock's lips were, not twenty minutes earlier. Was it still just a daydream? She couldn't even begin to process what had just happened in John's flat, Sherlock had assured her that he was sober, but how could she believe that? How? When all evidence pointed to the contrary... _has he ever lied to you_? Asked the voice from the back of her mind. R _eally thought, think! Has Sherlock Holmes ever actually lied to you?_

 

She frowned, he had said a great many hurtful things over the years without thought. He would disappear for weeks on end without so much as a text message to let her know he was safe. He could distract and avoid an uncomfortable topic better than anyone if he didn't want to talk about it.... but lie to her? Directly? No, Sherlock Holmes had never actually done that.

 

There was a soft knock at the door that sent Molly's heart leaping into her throat. She turned around and pulled the door open. "Sherlock, I-" Molly blinked in surprise. The tall man in the suit standing outside her apartment was not Sherlock Holmes, it was his brother. "Mycroft, what are you... can I help you with any? Is Sherlock alright?" She spluttered.

 

"Miss Hooper, good morning. My brother is fine, I have it on good authority he is currently at Scotland Yard.... filing a report." He replied his voice colored in boredom. "Do you mind if we come in?" 

 

She looked past the older Holmes brother to see the team that Mycroft had assembled, waiting at the curb. There was five of them, all dressed in expensive suits, carrying some sort of equipment. "Why? What do you want?" She asked standing firm on her stoop.

 

Mycroft sighed, he had hoped that Sherlock had already spoken to Miss Hooper, based on the photographs of her leaving Mr Watson's flat in tears early today he assumed his brother had. Oh well, one more burden to bear to help make up for his own wrong doings. "Please Miss Hooper this will be easier to explain if you are already seated."

 

A million scenarios ran through Molly's mind as she stepped aside to let Mycroft pass, all of them ending in the same way.... Sherlock was leaving again. He must be! It's the only thing that makes sense, the phone call, the kiss. Oh god! He wasn't coming back this time, was he?

 

She settled herself into a chair in her dining room, Mycroft took the one opposite her. "Tea?" He asked. "This could be a very long explanation." She nodded, forgetting that, this was her house.... she should be offering the tea. She looked to get up, but one of Mycroft men was already pulling out the cups and saucers. She let out a quiet scoff. Three times... that's how often Mycroft had been to her flat before. Once to collect Sherlock after his "death". Once when Sherlock had shown up high after Mary died, and now. How on earth did he know where she kept her teabags?

 

"Miss Hooper, I know these past few days have been somewhat of an ordeal for you but let me assure you, however hard it has been for you. It has been exponentially worse for my brother."

 

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and nodded for him to continue.

 

"Sherlock and I are not the only Holmes children, we also have a sister, Eurus." He said simply.

 

"I know." She replied, nodding to the man who had placed a cup of tea in front of her. 

 

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "Sherlock told you? When?" He asked, perhaps this won't be so bad after all. 

 

"He had his suspicions. When John was shot by a woman claiming to be your sister he called me to make sure John was okay. The last time we spoke about Sherlock was planning on getting proof. So, she's real then, this sister?"

 

"Yes, she was taken away as child due to an unfortunate matter and Sherlock had deleted her from his memories." He replied.

 

"Tell her why Mycroft." Said a low voice. 

 

They turned towards the front door to see Sherlock standing in the hall, fire blazing in his eyes.

 

"Brother mine." Said Mycroft not in the least surprised to see him.

 

"Mycroft, what are you doing here?" He snapped.

 

"A threat was made against Miss Hooper's life dear brother, or did you forget, I am here to ensure her safety."

 

"What?" Asked Molly. The reality of the phone call dawned on her, his insistence on her saying those words. The panic she had heard in his voice. "Did Eurus make you call me yesterday Sherlock?" She took a breath to distract herself from the stinging in her eyes, she had already cried enough today. "Did she make you say that?" 

 

In his eyes swirled a hundred thoughts and emotions, churning like the sea. "Yes." 

 

She let out a choked sob. "I need to get out of here, I need to leave."

 

She stood up and walked out the door, not bothering with her coat. In an instant, he was there, his large smooth hand covering hers. "Molly please, don't walk away from me."

 

She turned to face him, her cheeks already reddened from the cold. "I don't understand Sherlock, what do you want from me?"

 

"I don't admit to knowing either Molly, I am only just beginning to understand myself. But Eurus, she saw it. She knew what I had always ignored and she used it. Squeezing at it until I could no longer forget." His eyes were so soft and open, Molly had never seen him like this before.

 

"What did she see?" 

 

"You, it has always been you... on the edges of every case, bordering everything around me. The one person who mattered the most." His free hand moved to softly cup the back of her arm, anchoring her to him.

 

"This is all too much Sherlock. You told me you meant what you said, but I have no idea what that means. Everything has changed, now hasn't it?" She said holding his eyes with her own.

 

"Is that a bad thing?" He asked.

 

She laughed softly. "No, I don't know. But we can't go back now, you know that right? It will never be like it was before."

 

"I don't want it to." Sherlock replied, his voice thick with emotion.

 

"I don't either." She whispered.

 

"So, how do we do this?" He asked breaking the tension. "Should I? I don't know, woo you?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

 

She laughed, the sound made Sherlock's heart be a fraction faster. "I don't think that would work for either of us. How about we just experiment. I won't have any expectations with you, and you won't with me. Let’s just see what happens."

 

"Just see what happens? Molly Hooper you are a puzzle I hope to spend a lifetime figuring out." He replied smiling.

 

They looked back at the house, door still open, Mycroft and his men visible inside poking about. "Did you want to get out of here? Go get some lunch?" She asked.

 

"Yeah." He replied wrapping her arm around his.

 

"You do still have to tell me what exactly Mycroft is looking for in my flat...." she said as they walked arm in arm down the street.

 

 

Mycroft stood by the window in Molly's living room, watching the couple as they walked away. _Be happy dear brother_ , he thought to himself. He saw the way Sherlock looked at Miss Hooper, smiling at the fact that, like everyone else, he had missed it all those years. She was the solution. Separately they were two people with their own faults and shortcomings, but together, together they might just begin to repair each other...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I wanted ( and probably will someday) to write a happy story of how Molly and Sherlock got married and live together in frustrated bliss for the rest of their lives, I felt that this ^^ is where they are right now. I find the journey so fascinating, two people in love with no idea what to do about it. I truly want to watch three more season of just that!
> 
> I also wanted to be true to the characters, I mean, life doesn't just get better when you both know how you feel about each other. Relationships are work, they are challenging and filled with miscommunications. I know how hard the first couple of months with my boyfriend were, (despite knowing how much we loved each other.) now twelve years on we are still taking it slowly and figuring it out. 
> 
> that's my Head Cannon for those two.... now one more story to write on these prompts...... i better get cracking!!!
> 
> as always... your comments inspire me to continue. please send them to me in abundance.


	7. Thank god for Rusty Pipes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 for the tumblr challenge. (sorry its a bit late)  
> Free for all!!! Woohoo
> 
> so in this fic, ends my seven days of fun, naturally on the last day there is a tiny bit of smut. enjoy!

Sherlock rolled his eyes and checked his watch.

"Do you have somewhere to be brother mine?" Ask Mycroft from his spot standing by the window in Sherlock's sitting room. 

"No, you’re just boring me." Came Sherlock's droll reply. 

"Are you sure? It is Tuesday night after all, you usually have your scheduled date with Miss Hooper, tonight don't you?" He said smirking.

"And yet dear brother, knowing that information you still chose to come here and bore me with your silly problem." Sherlock retorted, shifting his legs in his leather chair.

* * *

 

"National security is everyone's silly little problem Sherlock." Mycroft responded.

"Good, go talk to someone else. I'm busy." Said Sherlock rising from his chair and showing his brother to the door.

"I'll leave the file here then." He said putting the manila envelope on the table. "In case your date ends early again."

Sherlock felt a cool drop of anger roll down his back. "Leave." He said staring his brother down.

Mycroft opened his mouth to reply, but thought the better of it. He calmly walked past the younger Holmes to the door. "Love, is making you slow brother dear." He said quietly as he walked down the stairs.

Sherlock slammed the door behind him in response, and walked to the couch, throwing himself down like a petulant child.

It had been three months since the Sherringford incident and Mycroft was always tense when he knew Sherlock had a visit scheduled. It was a constant reminder of how he had failed both his siblings and their parents. Sherlock knew he was just lashing out. But bringing Molly into it was a low blow. He sighed and checked his watch again. Molly finished work in half an hour, she would go home and change and expect him to arrive in an hour.

He had some time to kill. Sherlock though he should probably look at the case his dear brother had left him, but instead he chose to lament. 

They were fine, he had been assured. Their relationship was progressing normally. Which would be good if he had any idea of what normal meant. John told him earlier today that self-doubt was a perfectly natural occurrence when talking into consideration the feelings of those he loved, but it was new to him.

The problem was, he didn't know how to gauge how she was feeling. They went out to dinner, to films, they held hands and kissed. But only on their dates. In the morgue, it was strictly business, and they rarely spoke outside of work unless they were on a date. He wanted more. He wanted her to be with him always, he wanted to reach out and brush the loose hair from her face when it fell as she looked through the microscope at Barts. He wanted to fall asleep next to her. To talk to her until the sun came up and they were both too exhausted to work. 

But he had to respect her, he would move as slowly as she needed.

******************************

Molly sighed and rubbed her tired shoulder. Today had been exhausting, she had been filling in for Mike's classes as he was on holidays and the interns had drained her. Maybe she was just used to a higher caliber of intelligence these days. Sherlock was spoiling her.

She smiled thinking about the tall Mr Holmes and checked the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes until she could sign off and get ready for her date. Sherlock would be at her flat in forty-five to pick her up.

It didn't give her long to get ready. She missed Mary the most on date nights. Molly had never really had many girlfriends, and Mary had been the best. Always up for a laugh, or gossiping about their boys. Molly wished her friend could have been there to see her and Sherlock start dating. Mary would know how to tell Sherlock how she felt.

It wasn't that things weren't going well. No, it was nice, they were nice. But she couldn't help wanting more. They had been officially dating a week when Sherlock had shown up with a flow chart and a calendar to schedule their dates for the next six months. "It's practical Molly, this way I can't get lost in a case." He had explained.

At the time, she thought it was cute. Now, she wished he would see her more often than the one date a week two in the last week of the month schedule. He came into her work of course, but that was always case related and he never acted like they were together. Ever professional, ever frustrating.

She wanted to run her hands through his hair, and kiss his cheek as he looked through the microscope. She wanted to have a picnic on the roof at midnight. She wanted to do more than just kiss him and hold his hand.

But she had to respect him, she would move as slowly as he needed.

**********************************

She had just gotten home and was just about to get in the shower when the shower head burst out of the wall. She screamed as it broke through the glass shower door sending the glass shattering at her feet. The water poured out of the gap in torrents as she irrationally tried to plug the hole with her hand. She slipped on the wet tiles and winced as a shard of glass pierced her bare foot. "Fuck!" She cried.

Abandoning the still running shower Molly grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her middle before limping out into the kitchen to her first aid kit. She was surprised when she saw a heavy breathing Sherlock standing in her hallway. "Molly, I heard screaming. Your bleeding! What happened?" He asked rushing over to her.

She scowled in embarrassment, what was he doing here? She still had fifteen minutes until their date started. "I'm fine, the stupid shower head just exploded out of the wall." She replied pushing him away and attempting to limp over to the kitchen.

A moment later she was lifted off her feet as he scooped her up and walked to the bench. "You’re getting blood on your pants." She said softly.

"It's not the first time." He replied setting her down. "Now let’s take a look." 

"It's fine, really." She argued as he lifted her foot up to inspect the wound.

"It's not deep, and I don't think you have any glass in it. It should be fine with some butterfly clips don't you think?" He assessed.

"Yeah." She replied going red. "First aid kit is over there." Said Molly pointing to the top of the fridge.

He glided over and grabbed the kit, resting it on the bench next to her. Taking off his coat and jacked he pulled out the iodine, gauze and some clips. Then he set about cleaning the offending wound. She winced as he dropped the iodine into the fresh cut and saw his eyebrows crease in concern. "Alright?" He checked.

"Yeah, sorry. Stings a bit." She replied nodding at him to continue.

When the wound was clean he pinched the skin together and stuck on the lips before wrapping her entire foot in a bandage.

"There now, all better." He said his eyes catching her own tenderly.

She was suddenly aware of the fact that she was only clad in a very small, very wet towel. "Ah, Sherlock, can you help me get to the bedroom? I need to put on my robe." Her cheeks were completely crimson now. 

He nodded and scooped her up again, this time she wrapped an arm around his neck to help support herself. As Sherlock carried her into the bedroom he couldn't help notice the similarities to this situation and the bridal tradition of carry your new wife over the threshold. Of course, the brides weren't usually bleeding at the time. He placed her on the bed and walked into the bathroom to assess the damage. 

The shower head had taken out some tiles as well as the glass door and the water still poured out of the pipe where it once lived. He made his way quickly to the taps and turned off the water soaking himself in the process. Well, he thought, can't be helped. At least the blood wouldn't set on his pants now. 

Molly heard the water go off as she shimmied across the bed to grab her robe. Tying it up over the towel she looked up to see Sherlock standing at the door to the bathroom. She let out a laugh, she couldn't help it. He was flooded with water, hair that usually sat in dark curls across his head now lay flat in sodden chunks. "So" She said between fits of laughter. "You got the water off then." 

"Yes." He replied. "And I had a look at the shower head, it's completely rusted through. You should have told me it needed replacing."

The idea of Sherlock filling in as her plumber set her off in to hysterics again, and as she laughed she wondered if she was going into shock from the ordeal. "It's not funny Molly, you could have been killed." He said pushing his matted hair back from his face.

"Sorry, I, I, it's just. Well you look ridiculous." She laughed.

"Yes well." He said with a sigh undoing the buttons to his shirt. 

He had removed his possessions from Molly's house months ago, so as to make sure she was comfortable with the new relationship. But now he was stuck with an interesting problem. He was soaking wet, the only towel in the room was currently draped around his pathologist, and he had nothing dry to wear. His hand paused on the second button of his white shirt. "Do you have anything I could change into?" He asked.

The laughter died in her throat with a cough. Of course, he didn't have any clothes here anymore, she thought, biting her lower lip. There was something.... but he wasn't going to like it.

She leaned over to the draws by her bed and rolled out the bottom one. Inside was a pair of black silk pajama bottoms with chili's on them and the words **'hot stuff'** written on the waistband. She held them out to him hoping he wouldn't ask who's they were, she really didn't want to explain why she kept her ex Toms pants in her bedside table draw. Not that there was any bad reason for it, she just like the way the material felt on her legs and had never returned them when they broke up. Sherlock stepped over to grab them, shoes squelching from the water in them.

He looked at them with a pained expression but took them out of her hands. "Thank you, I'll just go to the spare room and change." 

She nodded and watched him walk out of the door, closing it behind himself. When he was gone, she limped over to her cupboard and pulled out a pair of fleece pajama pants and a tank top. After putting them on she snuck a glance into her ruined bathroom. 

It was a mess, shattered glass and tiles lay everywhere covered in water. She sighed and shut the bathroom door, thankful that she had a guest bath down the hall. She would worry about the room later.

She had just hobbled her way to the bedroom door when she heard a knock. Rather than answer she opened it. On the other side was a topless Sherlock wearing only the long silk pants, she took a very small moment to admire him. _I don't think I've ever seen him with a shirt off before,_ she wondered.

Whilst Molly was busy admiring Sherlock, he took a moment to do the same. She was clad in a skin-tight singlet top which hugged her small curves and left nothing hidden, and a pair of baggy flannel pink pants covered in cats. 'Your purrrfect' the pants read. He tried not to let the grammatical errors bother him.

"Here." He said offering his arm.

She took it and he slid it around her small waist as she rested her arm around his shoulder. He had to stoop to support her but he managed to get her over to the sofa. Sitting down she said. "Well, I guess date night is ruined."

"Not necessarily, we can order in and watch a movie here." Said Sherlock sitting down next to her. _Stop staring_! He said as his eyes glanced down at her curves again.

"That sounds nice." Molly replied. Failing to keep her eyes of his exposed chest. "What do you feel like?"

He couldn't stop looking at her lips. "Are you cold? You look a little blue, you lost a bit of blood." He covered.

"I'm fine, you’re the one not wearing a shirt." She replied. If he didn't put something on soon she was going to be unable to stop herself from running a finger across his chest.

"What?" He said looking down. "Oh yes, well. My clothes are in the dryer it shouldn't take long."

"Sherlock! You can't put those pants in the dryer! They're dry clean only." She said exasperated. 

He shrugged in reply. "I have many pairs."

Molly lifted her wounded foot up to cross over her other leg, but she bumped the wound in the process. Sherlock was alerted to her discomfort by the sharp intake of breath. "Are you alright? Here," he said lifting her up and shifting her on the sofa so her legs lay over his lap. "You need to keep it elevated." 

He looked odd, she thought, and it's not just because he's half naked. His eyes seemed darker than usual, and he was sitting so straight she knew it couldn't be comfortable for him. She sat up and finally let her hand dance across his chest. _What are you doing?_ Asked a voice in the back of her mind. She ignored it.

Sherlock turned to stare at the small woman as she ran her hand across his skin. It was intimate, more intimate than they had been yet. Quickly he studied her face, he could see some reservations, like she wasn't quite sure what she was doing. But beyond that, he could see her desire to touch him. He reached down and pulled her into his lap so she sat sideways across him. She gave him a quizzical look, in response he reached out to run his hand through her hair to settle onto the nape of her neck. She closed her eyes and leaned in to meet his waiting lips. 

They had kissed before of course, but most of those kisses had been chaste, standing outside her flat, or in the darkened cinema surrounded by people. This kiss was different, deeper. With a hungry passion, their relationship had been missing. He brought up his other hand and pressed it into her back, pinning her against him. Her hands ran circles over the skin of his arms. 

She broke free of his lips panting slightly. Leaning back, she had exposed her neck to him and he wondered what it would be like to kiss her there. It was an experiment he was happy to try. Molly let out a pleased hum as she worked her fingers into his damp hair.

She twisted her body trying to capture more of his exposed flesh but was restricted by the position she was in. She rested her good foot on the ground and maneuvered her other leg around until she was straddling him. Now with his whole chest exposed she could run her hands over him unrestricted as her lips met his own again.

His hands slid down her shirt coming to rest at the little strip of skin between the top and pants. He couldn't understand how her skin felt so hot, he wanted to feel more of it but her shirt was getting in the way. So, he slid his hands up and under her the soft material. She arched her back and kissed him deeper, her tongue working across his lower lip. He couldn't take it anymore, he wanted her, completely. Breaking their kiss, "Molly." He said in a deep voice. 

She looked into his eyes biting her Lower lip, she could see the question in them. Making sure he would understand she gave him a tiny nod.

He let out a groan and pulled her back to him, lifting her up as they still kissed. He walked them to the bedroom.

******************************** 

Sherlock opened his eyes as the sunlight streamed through the windows. He smiled down at the beautiful pathologist still sleeping on his chest. 

She sighed against him and he knew she would wake soon. He ran his fingers lightly down her exposed back. "Morning." She said, eyes still closed and a smile on her face.

"Morning." He replied smiling.

There had been nothing to worry about, all the intrepid young couple needed was a few rusty pipes to get them started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo, yeah....... that happened. don't judge me, it totally got away from me.  
> no wait do judge me! tell me everything! tell me to loved it, tell me you hated it.  
> just tell me, your comments fill my life with meaning.
> 
> XO

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to express how in my mind, Molly Hooper is just as smart, and just as strange as her counter part.  
> Also.... why can't Molly come from a rich family? I mean.... We all saw her London Flat..... know what I'm sayin.... (Bitch got coin)  
> Anyway.... this is my head cannon.
> 
> I hope you like it. Please leave comments! Feedback is my life blood!


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